haiku for steve-o's element

over-fence branch sweeps
snow (tears?) from lime pumpkin cheek.
captiva postcard.

toupee

new livingroom rug
Originally uploaded by schwillig.

We got a new rug. It's in the living room. It's been pet approved.

experiment results

So I get up in the morning and find that, after her little photo op, she didn't touch the carrot. Or at least didn't chew it to pieces. There may have been licking involved but no visible evidence remains. Let sleeping carrots lie.

How does this advance our hypothesis? It doesn't. More experimentation required.

scientific method

Unkind hints have already been made in this forum about a certain sweet-tempered Bucket’s indelicate mass. Or how shall we say. . . weight problem? But before we libel the pudgy little marmot any further, let’s get the facts straight. What we know so far, scientifically speaking:

• She weighs as much as a squirmy bag of sugar.
• She chews and shreds paper products with great relish, especially cardboard. This is known as pica. This handy pathology saves us the expense of buying and maintaining a costly document shredder and keeps us safe from identity theft.
• She often steals toilet paper or kleenex, drowns it in her water dish, soaks it, and then gorges on the resulting tasty gruel. Nothing but empty calories, cat.
• She only gets 2/3 cup of crunchy food a day: 1/3 cup in the morning and 1/3 cup in the evening, both intensely anticipated and wildly celebrated.
• And yet she gains.

Hypothesis #1: She’s hungry.
Hypothesis #2: She’s bored.

This calls for experimentation and hardcore data collection. To that end, we’ve placed an unadorned carrot on a plate and placed the plate on the dining room table. We’ll leave it unguarded overnight and see what morning brings. Have at it, Bucket. Carrots improve night vision.

Elmo Care Bear Mash Up

When worlds collide.